Just a little Drapple
by The Great Wizard Qui Quae Quod
Summary: Neville unknowingly hits Daphne with a transfiguration spell gone wrong. Draco needs to fix it. Leads to Applfoy? Malpple? Something.
1. Chapter 1

**General Disclaimer of Everything:** I own nothing.

* * *

"Please turn to page 394." Professor McGonagall's request was met with groans.

"Not Brussels sprouts," Ron moaned, banging his forehead on the desk. "Why would anyone ever want to transfigure something as nasty as that?"

"Well, I suppose it's better than eating rats," Harry replied knowingly, running one hand through his unruly black hair.

Ron shot a glare at Hermione. "Yeah," He agreed darkly, "Can't imagine why anyone would want to do that."

"Oh, for goodness sake," Hermione said huffily, "He's a cat, Ron. Cats eat rats. If you can't keep track of your own pets…" Harry sighed. He hadn't meant to start this again.

"When you use wand movement 42, that we learned last week, and say 'Esacaulis,' your rat should turn into Brussels sprouts, like so." McGonagall demonstrated. With a flourish of her wand, the rat on her desk turned green and leafy. "Now you will try."

The class chanted a ragged chorus of "Esacaulis," with varying results. Hermione's rat immediately became a head of lettuce. Not exactly Brussels sprouts, but close. The eyes of Seamus's rat glazed over as smoke started to pour from its fuzzy ears. Ron's turned a violent shade of yellow. Harry's rat tried to escape from his desk. Three times.

"No you don't!" Harry growled, pulling the rat back yet again. What was up with that? Most rats would just cower on the desk where they sat, but it seemed that his had more courage than most. Harry was seriously considering making it the official Gryffindor mascot. The rat lunged and Harry pulled his fingers out of the way just in time. Snick. Rat teeth closed on empty air. Harry recanted. Only a Slytherin would try something as underhanded as biting.

It wasn't as though Harry didn't sympathize with the rat, because he did. He really did. There couldn't me a more unpleasant fate than becoming someone's dinner, but that hadn't stopped him in the past and it wouldn't stop him now. Harry watched McGonagall pass down the row. Especially now.

So when the rat jumped off of the desk, Harry lunged after it. He managed to catch it by the tail before plowing headfirst into Neville and interrupting the other boy's spell. Neville's wand went flying and his charm went wide. The orange beam narrowly missed Lavender Brown's left ear before it shot out the open window. Immediately, Harry was caught in McGonagall's hawk like glare.

"I… Sorry, Neville," Harry climbed off the sprawling boy and helped him to his feet.

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall called in an iron tone. She stormed over.

"Oh, dear," Harry gulped. Neville and Ron shot him sympathetic looks before edging away from him.

* * *

Draco closed his eyes and counted to ten. He felt the sunshine and smelt the grass. Once he had regained control over his emotions, he spoke.

"Greengrass, you've got to give up these half-baked ideas. Stay away from the Hufflepuffs."

"But I _like_ Susan." Daphne protested, "She's _nice_."

"She's nice." Draco buried his head in his hands. "Of course she's nice. She's a Hufflepuff. It's their mission in life to be nice. That doesn't mean that you can be friends with her. A Badger and a Snake? It just isn't done. She'll just hold you back."

"I don't care." Daphne replied stubbornly.

"You're going to turn into a bad apple, Greengrass." Draco drawled. There was a flash of light. Draco dove to the ground and pulled out his wand simultaneously. When nothing further happened, Draco cautiously climbed to his feet, ignoring the grass stains on his robes.

"Greengrass?" He inquired. "What just happened, Greengrass? Daphne?" But the girl was gone, and by the window, in the exact spot where she had been standing, sat a little green apple. Draco panicked. He scooped up the apple and, glancing over his shoulder, he fled the courtyard.

"My Father must never hear about this." Was Draco's first thought. As a child, accidental magic is applauded as a sign of a wizard's strength and a confirmation of their status. But at the age of 13 it was considered a weakness and a lack of self-control.

Draco had been upset, but he hadn't thought he was _that_ upset, and now Daphne was an apple. Greengrass was a most noble and ancient house. If Lord Greengrass were to find out about this, it could cause and "incident". Draco shuddered at the thought. He couldn't get help from his father, and he couldn't get help from a teacher. He was on his own in fixing this mess.

Draco was trying to avoid everyone, and in standing with the tradition of Hogwarts students trying to avoid everyone; he soon found himself in a certain deserted corridor on the seventh floor. There was a particularly ugly tapestry of Trolls wearing tutus. He started to pace. What Draco needed was a way to turn Greengrass back into a person. Something reliable. He didn't want any old person after all. It needed to be Daphne Greengrass, with all her quirks and habits. It also needed to be discreet. He didn't want the whole school knowing about this. As Draco passed the tapestry for the third time, a door appeared in the opposite wall. Curious, he pulled it open and stepped inside. It was a study. A green armchair sat next to the hearth and the table was piled with books. He picked up the first one and read the title. "Human Transfiguration and the Mind." This, he thought gleefully, would be everything that he needed to fix the situation.

But an hour later, Draco set the book down and pinched the bridge of his nose. He fought back the coming headache. The spells that he needed were complicated. A seventh year might have difficulties, let alone a third year. He was ready to admit that he needed help.

"I know," he said to himself. "I'll kidnap Granger, and to keep Potter and the Weasel from interfering I'll turn them into fleas. Small, harmless little fleas, and then I'll put those fleas in a box, and then I'll put that box inside of another box, and then I'll owl that box to myself, and when it arrives…"

Draco let out a wild and malicious laugh.

"I'll smash it with a hammer! It's brilliant, brilliant, brilliant, I tell you! Genius, I say!"

He was very taken with the plan and it required a moment before he spotted the flaw in it. If Gryffindor's Golden Trio went missing, the whole school would be placed on alert. He needed this to remain low key.

* * *

Severus Snape swept into his dungeon classroom and took a silent roll call. Zabani and Nott paired as usual. Crab and Goyle. Parkenson by herself. Potter with Longbottom; infrequent, but not unheard of. Ah, Weasley and Granger were fighting again. Weasley with Finnigin and Granger with Patail. A few docked points might encourage them to focus on their potions. Snape did not want to deal with another explosion today.

But Greengrass was missing. Snape felt a twinge of unease. The third year Slytherin had openly professed that Potions was her favorite class and Snape her favorite teacher. He was fond of the girl himself. She was an unusually level headed child. It would take a dire emergency for her to skip this class.

Or hormones. Snape noted with annoyance that Malfoy was missing as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**General Disclaimer of Everything:** I own nothing.

* * *

It was clear at dinner that night that the House elves were taking advantage of the fall harvest. The main courses were vegetable in nature, both fresh and cooked in every way imaginable. Boiled, mashed, steamed, and stewed. Even baked in a pie. They were also making the best of the autumn fruits. Desert consisted of Apple custard, Apple Tarts, Apple Pie, Stewed Apples, and fresh Apples dripping with caramel.

Malfoy recoiled when he saw them appear. He looked stricken for a moment. Slytherin mask firmly back in place, he sat out the rest of dinner and refused to eat another bite. His hand stayed in the pocket of his robes, as if trying to reassure himself.

Slytherin quiditch practice always occurs, three days a week, after dinner. Draco had forgotten all about it and he didn't even have time to run down to his dormitory.

"We all have to practice harder this year, if we want to win." Flint told them. "It's Wood's last year, so you know that the Gryffindors will be in the air every chance they get. Draco only had time to drop his bag on the sidelines before he was rushed out onto the field. The two hour practice was intense and brutal. It was only cut short when the Gryffindors started coming out for their own practice. Draco landed softly on the lawn next to his friend Greg. Greg had followed him out onto the pitch to watch, and was thoughtfully holding his bag. Draco smiled. Until he noticed what Greg was holding in his other hand.

* * *

Harry and Ron trailed down to the quiditch pitch for the fifth time that week; Harry to play and Ron to watch. Hermione outright refused to come again, saying that homework was more important than sports and hinting darkly that the boys would fail all of their classes if they didn't also stay.

"And what are you supposed to do about it?" Ron asked indignantly. "It's an official team practice and you're the only Gryffindor seeker."

"Right," Harry agreed, "I'll just say, 'Sorry, Wood. I skived because I have a potions essay due Monday.' He'd be so understanding of that. Remember what he told me last year during the match with the rouge bludger? 'Get the Snitch or die trying.' "

They walked in companionable silence for a moment, considering the quiditch crazed captain.

" 'Mione does have a point though," Harry admitted. "These daily practices are really starting to wear me out."

"At least you're not having those nightmares anymore."

"True enough."

Suddenly they heard a panicked shout of "No! DON'T EAT THAT!" and they arrived on the field just in time to see Malfoy tackle Goyle. Malfoy looked furious; Goyle, confused.

"It's just an apple." He protested."

"It's _my_ apple!" Malfoy shrieked, clutching the green fruit to his chest." "Mine!" He stormed off, leaving a bemused Goyle on the ground next to a green book bag with an embroidered MM on the pocket.

"Mate, did I just see what I thought I saw?" Ron asked.

"I think so."

"This is rich," Ron laughed, "Malfoy… and that apple…"

"You'd think he was in love with it the way that he was holding it." Harry grinned.

"It's just like one of those whatsits that Dean's always reading."

"Fanfiction,"

"That's it. Finfaction. It would be an apple in love with Malfoy, so they'd call it Applfoy."

"That's kind of hard to pronounce." Harry protested, "Malpple would be better."

"Malpple," Ron tried the word. "Not bad. Malpple, Malpple, Malpple."

* * *

That night, Draco carefully shreaded his copy of 'The Daily Prophet' and made a newspaper bed for Daphne to sleep in. Complete with hanging curtains.

"I'm sorry you have to stay in the boy's dorm." He told her. "It's just not safe for you to be in your own bed tonight. His year mates, after hearing Greg's story, wisely kept their mouths shut and their laughter to themselves.

* * *

AN: Short chapter this time. Oh well, I promise the next one will be longer.

Kudos for anyone that spots the movie reference in the previous chapter.

Next time. "Please enlighten us, Malfoy. In which paragraph do the instructions call for essence of apple?"


	3. Chapter 3

**General Disclaimer of Everything:** I own nothing.

* * *

Harry awoke with a start. It was still dark out. For a brief moment, he thought the storm had woken him. Heavy rain battered the windows and the wind was fierce. Then he noticed his quiditch Captain at the foot of his bed.

"Wood?" Harry asked groggily.

"Hurry and get dressed, Potter. We're having a practice. Meet me on the field in twenty minuets."

Harry groaned, but obediantly started rummaging in his trunk for his waterproof robes.

"There's a good fellow." Wood said, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

Harry checked his watch. That couldn't be right. Maybe his watch was behind?

"Tempos." He muttered.

"Oliver!" Harry croaked, "It's four in the morning!"

* * *

Poor.

Dreadful.

Dreadful.

Acceptable.

Troll.

A light tap sounded on the office door. Professor Snape frowned and checked his watch. It was six o'clock . A quick deduction determined who the transgressor was. Any of his fellow teachers that were inclined to seek him out would not have sounded so timid. The Headmaster wouldn't have even bothered to knock at all. It had to be a student, even though his office hours didn't start for another forty-five minutes.

"Come in," he called, setting aside the abysmal essay that was more red ink than black. This might just be an over eager Ravenclaw. In which case, he would glare at the dismally enthusiastic child and tell them to go away. But it might be one of his Snakes. The Slytherins knew better than to bother him at odd hours with trivial matters. If one of them were to seek him out now, it would be for a serious reason indeed.

Little Astoria Greengrass hesitantly entered.

"Professor?" She asked. "May I have a moment of your time?"

"Yes," He replied, giving her his full attention. From the flush of her cheeks and her over bright eyes, he could tell that something was dreadfully wrong.

"Daphne's missing." She said bluntly. Snape felt his stomach lurch. "Nobody's seen her all day, yesterday, and she didn't come back to the common room last night."

* * *

It was a subdued Gryffindor team that trudged in for breakfast. Angelina Johnson could only pick at her eggs, and the Weasley twins were falling asleep where they sat. Only Oliver was truly awake. Harry slid into place, between Ron and Hermione. He shoveled some oatmeal into his bowl. He added some milk and honey. He sleepily stirred it all with a spoon. Next to him, Ron devoured fried potatoes, grilled tomatoes, and a mountain of bacon.

"You need to eat more." Wood told Harry, adding three sausages and some toast to Harry's plate.

"Look," Ron said, nudging Harry with his elbow. He pointed to the Slytherin table where Malfoy was sitting alone. He seemed to be talking to someone. An apple occupied the place across from him.

"Malpple." Harry replied with a large grin. A very confused Hermione passed Harry the syrup.

* * *

Draco took Daphne out of her bed of shredded newspaper and took her with him to breakfast. He didn't want to take any chances. It was early enough that the Slytherin table was still empty. He sat alone with Daphne. He wasn't certain how sentient she was at the moment, so he carefully set her on the table and made small talk at her while he ate. Better to be safe than to be sorry.

Draco slept through History of Magic while Binns droned on about goblin wars. He registered just enough of the material to understand that it might be interesting if taught by a different professor. Preferably one that hadn't died three centuries ago.

He struggled through Charms. The cheering charm seemed equally ridiculous in its casting and its purpose. As a result, his wand work was sloppy.

He excelled in Transfiguration. It only took him two tries to turn his rat into a leafy green cabbage.

In all three classes he was careful to place Daphne on the corner of his desk. He made sure that she was able to… see? Hear? Observe? Are apples capable of observation? …the class without falling into harm's way. Then he went to potions.

Grabbing his usual table with Greg, he began to set up for the class.

"Malpple," Potter whispered to Weasley as they passed. What did maple wood have to do with anything? He absentmindedly finished laying out his ingredients as he wondered what sort of trouble the Gryffindors would try to stir up today.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said coolly, "Exactly what is on your table?"

"My ingredients?" Draco replied. His mind worked rapidly, trying to remember if the professor had ever used _that_ tone with him before.

"I see." His voice was soft and dangerous. "Please enlighten us, Malfoy. In which paragraph do the instructions call for essence of apple?"

Malfoy's eyes widened with horror as he realized what he had forgotten. "It doesn't, sir."

"It doesn't." Snape agreed. Professor Snape picked up Daphne Greengrass and placed her in his pocket. "Twenty points from Slytherin. Don't let it happen again."

"I will not tolerate idiots that bring food or beverage into this lab." Snape addressed the riveted students. "This class is difficult enough to teach without you dunderheads attempting to poison yourselves."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Sorry, I didn't mean to drop off of the face of the earth. (It was a lot of work climbing back up too...) but I'm back now. For the moment. We'll see how crazy second semester gets.

**General Disclaimer of Everything:** I own nothing.

* * *

Severus started his search at breakfast by discreetly notifying select members of the staff. Mr. Malfoy was back, sitting alone at the Slytherin table, but Ms. Greengrass was nowhere to be seen. He mused over questioning the boy, but decided against it. Malfoy and Greengrass had never been close. If one was back and the other still missing, the likelihood is that they hadn't been together after all. He worried all through breakfast and couldn't bring himself to eat anything.

Severus was short tempered in all his classes. He glared at the students as he taught the miserable wretches. How could they be happy when one of their fellows was missing? Especially the Slytherins! He would have known in an instant if one of his year mates went missing. Snape even ended up taking points from his own house. It was something that he usually avoided because the rest of the school was prejudiced against his students, but when Flint tried to blow the class room up and when Malfoy had tried to poison himself, Snape lost it. Didn't the ignoramuses have any respect for life? Didn't the little cretins have any self preservation instinct at all?

He skipped lunch, normally taken in his office, in order to sweep the castle. Wand flat on the palm of his hands, Snape growled two words. "Point me."

* * *

Where do teachers keep things that they have confiscated? The answer is inevitably, in their office.

Draco slinked around the corner, and approached the office door. It was lunch time, so the corridor was deserted. He chanted a detection spell that was usually used by curse breakers. A thin red line of light shot out of his wand and he used it to scan the door. To his surprise, it the results came back negative. The door wasn't trapped. A simple Alohomora was enough to unlock it. Still, he was cautious as he entered. He sneaked... er... furtively padded across the bare flagstones. He paused after every step, listening intently for any alarms that might have been triggered. Once, he thought he heard footsteps pass just outside the door, and his heart skipped a beat. It pounded an unsteady rhythm against his ribs.

Draco eyed the cupboard, and the filing cabinet, uneasily wondering if Daphne had been locked away. Surely not. It was just an apple. Snape didn't actually know did he? Then an awful thought occurred to him as awful thought often do when you are lurking in places where you ought not to be and are feeling slightly sick to your stomach. What if Snape had thought that Daphne was just and apple. What if he had eaten her?! He came to a stop before the organized desk. It seamed that Snape's office was just as spartan as his classroom. Just behind the pile of neatly stacked folders and next to a dinner plate, which contained a sandwich and a small salad, sat a green apple. He let out a sigh of relief and snatched it up.

Draco placed it in his book bag. Then he hurried from the room, least Professor Snape arrive for lunch and find him in there. He shuddered at the thought of what his head of house might do if he found him poking about in his office. Detention would just be the start of it. Draco lengthened his stride a little.

When he rounded the corner, he had a glimpse of the clear corridor just before he hit a large, brown, black, and scarlet blur.

Draco was back on his feet first, straightening his robes and dusting off his knees. He then turned to offer his assailant a hand up. He changed his mind when he saw who he had run into.

"Watch where you're going, Granger." He sneered at the girl at his feet. She struggled with her tangled robes.

"Sorry," She replied breathlessly as she climbed to her feet. She looked up and froze. Well this was awkward.

"Don't let it happen again." He growled. He stalked around her, not helping as she scrambled to pick up her books. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her fish something golden out of the front of her robes.

He heard her mutter something about "Should have been deserted..." and "...didn't go back far enough..." Confused, Draco glanced back over his shoulder. She was already gone.

Neither of them noticed the apple that had fallen out of the book bag, and was now sitting innocuously in the corner.

Half an hour later, a house elf happened by. It picked up the apple, checked it over for bruises, and with a shrug snapped it's fingers. The apple was sent to the kitchens to be cleaned. The elf continued sweeping, humming a monotone tune under his breath.


	5. Chapter 5

**General Disclaimer of Everything: **No actual apples were harmed in the making of this story.

* * *

A green Apple bobbed and weaved among a mass of others just like it, floating in the barrel of water. If apples could panic, it might have, over what had become it's fate. It might have tried to evade the nimble, grasping fingers that methodically plucked its fellows, sentencing them to a fiery doom. This was Hogwarts kitchen, and it was time to cook supper. One fished out to cook with the pork. One selected for pie. The Apple very nearly missed a sticky fate. Fingernails nearly grazed it as the one next to it was taken to be dipped in caramel. One was chopped up to make crepes. On the stove, a large vat of them were being stewed in brown sugar.

The Apple was plucked from the water in an unbreakable grip, and inspected. Before this house elf were two baskets. One was a fruit basket to be set on the dinner table. Several elves were working from the other, chopping and grating, to make applesauce. The apple hovered indecisively between the two for a moment, just as likely to go one way as the other. It would only take one blemish, one bruise, one speck of dirt, and the Apple would be doomed to the knives and the fires.

The house elf made his decision and set the Apple down.

* * *

"Point me." Severus Snape growled, focusing on his missing student. His wand spun around in his palm to point at... himself? He turned in a slow circle, keeping his hand steady and even. The wand spun with him, fixating on him entirely. With a curse, Snape ended the spell.

"Point me!" he tried again, with the same results. It was a simple enough charm. He had learned it in third year, for crying out loud. He had performed it in this exact manner, a thousand times before, with excellent results. So why wasn't it working now?

Snape refused to believe the other option. That the spell wouldn't work, couldn't work, because Daphne Greengrass was ether kidnapped or dead.

* * *

Draco was just on time for dinner. As he walked through the doors of the great hall, plates began to magically fill. He smirked. Talk about an entrance. He took a moment to check on Daphne. But she wasn't in his bag. And she wasn't in his pockets. The fall! he must have dropped her when he had collided with Granger! Panicking slightly, he placed his wand on his palm and did a basic searching charm. He placed his wand flat on his palm and thought hard about the apple that he had rescued from Snape's desk. "Point me," he demanded. Almost lazily, the wand spun around until its glowing tip pointed at Gryffindor table.

* * *

Harry picked up the little green apple and rubbed it on his shirt. There was a commotion by the door, but he ignored it. There were often commotions by the door. If it was anything serious - like a troll getting loose in the dungeons, or one of Fred and George's pranks, or anything really atrocious that Gilderoy Lockhart wore (which was everything he ever wore, come to think of it) or when Sirius Black had been spotted, - then the commotion would have been happening up by the staff table for dramatic effect. So Harry really wasn't paying attention to the sound of running feet and disgruntled, run-over students. Instead he raised the apple to his mouth. His lips brushed the apple's skin and someone screamed "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" It was only then when his eyes flicked up.

"He's going to hit me," Harry thought, "I need to move. He's going to crash right into me!" But it took a moment for his body to catch up with his brain. Instead of Harry taking one step to the left, he bit down, ripping a large chunk from the apple.

Draco Malfoy collapsed onto the floor, sobbing.

Harry turned a bewildered look on Hermione and Ron. Hermione could only shrug.

"Mapple?" Ron offered.

* * *

"Point Me!" Severus Snape snarled. For the ninth time the wand spun around to point at him. He took a few more steps, hoping that the spell troubles were due to localized undercurrents or something. He'd really have to mention it to Flitwick. As he rounded the corner, he met Lupin, who looked disheveled. His hair was rumpled, there were bags under his eyes, and the tip of a yellowed, old, blank, piece of parchment stuck up out of one of his pockets. He too, held his wand out on the flat of his palm.

"How goes the search?" Lupin asked neutrally.

"Poorly," Snape admitted. While he didn't really like his co-worker, the man was helping him find one of his missing students, and finding Daphne took priority. "The blasted spell doesn't seem to be working."

"At all?" Lupin asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

"Oh, the wand moves, all right. It just can't seem to focus on the correct person."

Lupin lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't think the spell is the problem. Do you have anything in your pockets?"

Snape glared. "I know all about Luminaii's theory of conductive objects, thanks. I took charms class too. I don't have anything metal on my person, magnetizable or otherwise!"

"But do you have anything in your pockets?" He asked again mildly.

"Look, I've only got this apple." Snape said, thrusting it out at him.

Lupin took the green fruit and backed away a couple of steps.

"Now try."

"Point me." Snape growled. The wand spun around to point at ... the apple?

Lupin smiled grimly. "Severus," he said, "May I present one Daphne Greengrass?"


End file.
